On Earth as in Heaven
by Postmodern Prometheus
Summary: Sometimes I think about you, and all I want to do is hold you and bite your cheeks, so tenderly that it doesn't hurt. They are so soft, and you smell like rain. I feel like I know every inch of your body. Can familiarity make you love somebody even more?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make money by writing this fanfiction.**

**Author's Note: This is only a short prologue. Please review.**

_My Darling, I'm waiting for you, and a second is__ longer than a thousand years snuggled into you.__ I miss your warmth, Harry, the roughness of your cheeks, the woodsiness of your chest. Time passes in moments, moments that define what a person is. Look into my heart, and you will see those moments, the moments that belong to you, that are you, the greatest of journeys that we embarked together. This world you showed me, the world full of adventure, purpose and righteous fury. Should it all end like this? In nothingness. I see fire when I dream, and I feel horribly cold. I shiver. Is this the way it is supposed to end? That we burn like fire only to be extinguished by a slight drizzle? I refuse to accept that, Harry, I cannot accept that. How did you give up so easily? No. Why did you not ask me to give up as well, to let my life be taken before yours, to fall on my knees and beg the devil to spare you? For there is nothing I wouldn't do for you Harry, nothing below me if I had to save you. How could you not let me join you with the rest of the journey, the one that transcends death?_

_He will come for us Harry, now that our protector is gone. He will destroy everything that we hold sacred. How sad is it that I'm not even worried about it? How sad is it that I have given up our struggle? You are the one who dared us to dream, to achieve the impossible to achieve. How sad is it that I can no longer live like you, to pursue a cause endlessly and tirelessly? No one can get there alone Harry, and now that you are gone, I am alone. This heart that I gave you one rainy night, when we both still had hope and life, refuse to beat anymore Harry. It wants to stop, to end this pain. We die. Now I see it. And in this wretched place I think about you, and I want you to come, and carry me to wherever you are, to take me with you to wherever you go. I know you will come. That's what you promised the day you entered me, to never leave me even if the world burnt to ashes._

_I still wait for you. I have to. And I'm screaming now. Ron is holding me back. Voldemort will kill me he knows, but I don't care. Why can't he understand that life isn't worth living without you? I have to be close to you, to touch your body, and die if you have died. To hold you tight to my breasts, when my heart stops beating. To look at you, to kiss your face one last time, when earth and heaven crumble into pieces. Ron is stronger than me, and I can't break away from his grip. He is laughing, that empty little son of a bitch. These fates of ours seem too cruel. But why? We, you and I, Harry, are the elements that transforms into existence. Whatever happened between us is the nature's gift to us, one that we should treasure. You cannot comprehend the guilt I feel that I did not tell you. You needed to know, and you wouldn't have given up if I did._

_It is just a memory now, that will soon be lost, as death will come to me now. In that magical tent we lived, in the middle of a forest where nobody came, I became yours, and you mine. This pain that keeps us apart now, in our death will unite us, and you will be mine, to never leave again._

_For your blood runs, in my womb_

_**Please review if you liked this.**_


	2. Chapter 1

"We would both love him as long as we don't love each other. That much has always been clear" said Hermione, her mind clearly somewhere else. They were sitting by the fire they had lit up close to their tent. Harry wasn't sure to whom she was talking – to him or to herself. He decided to stay silent. "It's perfect, don't you think Harry; two lovers, the top of a mountain, alone, while the rest of the world is at war. It's perfect for a novel."

"The corniest novel ever perhaps" Harry said, smiling. This was the first time they had spoken in few days. "Literature deals with the ordinary, remember?"

"Extraordinary things actually do happen. Look at us, the situation we have found ourselves in. This is extraordinary. Things like this needs to be written. They demand to be written."

"Yes, journalists can write about them." He was smiling ear to ear now, pleased with his own cleverness. "So who are the two lovers and who did they both love before they loved each other, in this novel you are writing?"

"What do they say? Don't ask questions you already know the answers to. Haven't you wondered though?"

He said nothing to answer that. It's hard for men not to think such things about women emotionally close to them, as much as it is hard for them not to be astounded by the beauty of a clear night's sky. But there were days, weeks, and even months that he went on without looking up at the sky. There were enough things in this world to keep you occupied. In the first days he sensed the budding romance of his friends, he was for the most part confused. He hadn't anticipated it, although he should have. He didn't know how to process it. It was awkwardness that he felt whenever he interrupted a conversation, or a moment of silence between them. Later it turned into resentment. He had never loved Hermione as a man loves a woman. But once she was with Ron, he had a distinct feeling that she should have been his. It is said, he knew, that men want what other men want.

Sometimes I think about you, and all I want to do is hold you and bite your cheeks, so tenderly that it doesn't hurt. They are so soft, and you smell like rain. I feel like I know every inch of your body. Can familiarity make you love somebody even more? That crease behind your neck, the thinness of your fingers. I see every touch between us in a different light now. When Romeo thought Juliet died, he died with her. When she knew he had died, she died with him. If that is not love, what is? It's the simplest, the most pure form of love; love that knows no boundaries; love that breaks everything in its wake. Here you are, still by my side, sacrificing that which is most dear to you and risking everything else. I know you aren't doing it for me. But you aren't doing it to save the world either.

Sometimes I think nothing can keep me from you.

"I have thought about it" said Hermione. "It's hard not to when every girl at Hogwarts is asking you about it. How many people thought there was something between us? It's only natural to wonder whether there is something when everyone thinks there is."

"I try not to think about such things" said Harry. "But I have thought about having this conversation a thousand times – the conversation in which we wonder why we never got together."

"Never is a strong word."

"Never is a strong world."

"I think it was because…"

"Let's just not psychoanalyze. It's already uncomfortable enough."

"Okay" Hermione said. There was a slight smile on her lips.

Voldemort doesn't know what he's missing, for the heart Hermione, is an unusual organ. Sometimes it freezes as if it was cut out and buried under the ice in Antarctica. At other times it is as if it was caught on fire. It beats hard and it burns. Sometimes it just wants you.

"I keep seeing this dream lately. I'm in a hospital, though I don't see anything. There's no colour in this dream. There's no sound or anything. I think I'm dead."

"You're not going to die young Harry."

Harry sighed. "Just don't think any less of me for the thing that I'm going to do now."

"I'm not. I know what you are going to do."

Harry was staring into her eyes - those lovely eyes. The first time I dreamt of you, I woke up screaming. This was some time after I had realized you two were in love. Ron thought it was that cursed connection to Voldemort's mind. I let him believe that. How could I tell him the truth? How could I tell him that I kissed you in my dreams? It was the betrayal that made me scream. It was suffocating me. How could I do that to my best friend?

That was when I realized that I need to be careful about how I think about you, that I need to control my thoughts about you. I didn't talk with you for about a day.

"Yes I remember that. You were so cold to me that day."

After that I didn't think much about it. I started dating Ginny and that helped me to not think about you. But then I left her along with civilization. For months now it's only you and Ron I've really spoken with. It's propinquity Hermione- propinquity in this tent, in these woods. Now here's why I told you to not think any less of me. I secretly hoped that Ron would leave so that you and I can be together in these woods, separated from the rest of the world. I knew that was wrong. I knew that was selfish. I knew that was downright shameless. But I was also weak. When he left and you decided to stay, I couldn't help thinking that you chose me over him. I know. I know.

Hermione had her eyes closed. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. "Yes, I think I did choose you over him."

Then they kissed.


End file.
